


We're Family

by Kate_MacKay



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-10
Updated: 2019-05-03
Packaged: 2020-01-10 23:16:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18417911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kate_MacKay/pseuds/Kate_MacKay
Summary: With Nebula caught in a life-threatening situation, Peter and Gamora endure a terrible ordeal while the rest of the Guardians of the Galaxy mount a rescue.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s note: This is the second story I outlined last summer. I am finally getting around to typing it up and posting it here. It takes place immediately after my story "The Reckoning", but you do not need to read that story to understand what is going on in this one. The only other thing to know is that in my imagination, everyone gets resurrected in Avengers: Endgame, and this takes place a short time after that. I hope you enjoy this story.

CHAPTER ONE:

A beeping woke Gamora. Comfortably curled against Peter’s warm, solid body in their big bed in their quarters on the _Quadrant_ , the temptation to ignore the incoming call was strong. But then there was reality. Despite being galaxy-savers multiple times, earning enough units was a never-ending challenge, especially with both the _Quadrant_ and the _Benatar_ needing repairs. They couldn’t afford to lose a job because she didn’t want to get out of bed.

She glanced at Peter in the shadowed darkness of their quarters. He looked better than when he had collapsed into bed, fatigue and pain obvious on his face. His wound wasn’t serious, but peaceful, uninterrupted sleep would be best for his recovery, so Gamora carefully extracted herself from his embrace. Peter mumbled unhappily, but didn’t wake.

“I’ll be right back.” Gamora softly kissed his forehead.

Quill sighed contentedly and mumbled, “OK,” but she doubted he was actually awake.

“Sister, I have a problem,” Nebula greeted as soon as Gamora answered the call. The transmission faded for a moment. When Nebula’s face reappeared on the viewscreen, a burst of bright sparks erupted behind her.

“What happened?” Gamora asked.

“I crashed on Ganderia.”

“The Ice Planet?”

“It is the only Ganderia I know of.”

“What are you doing there?”

“I told you. I crashed.”

“But why were you even near there? There’s not much in that sector.”

“Thanos was defeated, but he still has supporters in many places,” Nebula explained. “A group of them was developing a very powerful explosive device. They were planning to test it on a mining colony. I stole the device and their plan for it, demolished their computer system, and killed many of them. My ship was damaged when I escaped and I crashed here last week.”

“Last week! Why didn’t you call sooner?” Gamora questioned.

Nebula’s expression didn’t change. Her black eyes were unreadable. “I do not want to be indebted to you. Or reminded you are more capable.”

Gamora sighed. While her relationship with her sister had improved considerably, Nebula still stubbornly resisted ever asking for help. “What changed your mind about calling?”

“I was unable to repair the ship. I have enough fuel to maintain minimal heat in the ship for forty-eight hours.”

“Forty-eight hours! We’re on Cassiar. It will take almost forty-eight hours to get there from here!” Gamora exclaimed.

“You understand the timing of my call,” her sister replied calmly.

“Our own ships need repairs. I’m not sure we can get there that fast.”

“My body modifications should allow me to survive somewhat longer.”

“We’ll get there as soon as we can,” Gamora promised.

Nebula ended the transmission without another word. Gamora sighed before going back to the bed. Quill was still asleep in a tangle of blankets. The edge of a white bandage showed against the solid muscles of his torso. Gamora gazed fondly at him and wished she could let him continue sleeping.

She sat on the edge of the bed and shook his shoulder gently. “Peter, wake up.”

Quill grumbled.

“Peter, we have a problem… actually an emergency.”

He didn’t open his eyes or move, but sleepily asked, “Ship under attack?”

“No.”

“Rocket about to blow something up?”

“Not that I know of.”

“Then we don’t have an emergency.” Grunting softly as the fresh stitches in his side pulled uncomfortably, he struggled for a moment to extract an arm from under the tangle of blankets and wrapped it around Gamora’s waist. “Come back to bed.”

“Peter, Nebula is going to die in forty-eight hours.”

His eyes shot open and he was instantly fully awake. “What?” Grimacing and clutching at the slash wound on his ribs, he sat up. “What’s going on?”

Gamora explained what little she knew of Nebula’s situation.

“We never catch a break, do we?” Quill reflected.

“I’m sorry. Maybe you should go back to sleep.” She gently touched the bandages wrapped around his ribs. “You need to rest. I’ll figure out what to do about Nebula.”

Quill’s lips curved into the soft smile he only ever gave her. “It’s not bad. I can do another rescue.”

“But she’s _my_ sister.”

“Exactly.” He tried to stretch, but winced as the movement tugged at the wound on his side. “At least we’re on Cassiar. We can get all the parts we need at the marketplace right now. Other places we’d have to wait until stores open in the morning. As soon as we have those parts, it won’t take long to fix the ships.” Peter cupped Gamora’s face and ran his thumb over the soft skin of her cheek. She leaned into his comforting touch. “We’ll get your sister,” he assured.

After sharing a slow and tender kiss, Quill forced himself to his feet. “Let’s get dressed and wake the others. You get Rocket this time. He damn near bit my finger off last time I had to wake him up.”


	2. Chapter Two

CHAPTER TWO:

Quill stood next to Gamora at the head of the table in the galley, the usual gathering place for the Guardians when they had something to discuss. She explained what had happened to Nebula and her need of immediate rescue. Drax yawned, probably from boredom, not lack of sleep. He never really paid attention in strategy meetings. Or any meetings. Mantis looked like she needed some strong coffee. Her antennae, and her eyelids, kept drooping. She needed _a lot_ of strong coffee. Groot was absent. After his recent ordeal on Albia, Peter and Gamora decided he needed his sleep. Kraglin looked completely awake and a little worried. Rocket fidgeted unhappily with the sling that supported his wounded shoulder, but his ears perked up at something Gamora said.

“Nebula has a weapon of mass destruction? What kind?”

“That’s not a priority right now,” Quill reprimanded.

Kraglin nodded. “If we can get the fuel modulator for those two engines on the _Quadrant_ fixed by morning, we’ll be on Ganderia in under forty-eight hours.”

Quill added, “Fixing the _Benatar’s_ aft shield and steering controls can wait, but if I can get the parts now, I will. Rocket, Kraglin, while Gamora and I get the parts, you get everything ready so it’ll be fixed as soon as possible. Drax, Mantis, help them with whatever they need.”

Drax yawned again. Mantis tried to blink the sleep from her eyes.

Quill met Gamora’s worried expression. “We’ll get your sister,” he promised again.

 

* * *

 

“Where the hell are they?” Rocket asked as he paced in front of the broken fuel modulator on the _Quadrant_. He adjusted the sling supporting his shoulder into a more comfortable position.

“They shoulda been back by now,” Kraglin agreed.

“I am Groot.”

“Yeah. Obviously something happened,” the raccoon growled.

“We should go to the market,” Kraglin suggested. “See what’s takin’ ‘em so long.”

 

* * *

 

At the edge of Nova Corps jurisdiction, Cassiar’s market was a mix of everything from completely legal to extremely shady. During the day, it was no different than any number of other markets found across the galaxy, but at night things changed. Nighttime was when more dubious deals were negotiated, when questionable contacts could be found, and when crime of all sorts was more common than legitimate business.

Chaos greeted Rocket and Kraglin when they arrived at the marketplace. Some of the vendors’ stalls were overturned, their wares scattered. A few bodies of Sakaarans and Kree sprawled across the ground. A mob of people was arguing in the centre of the market, pushing and shouting angrily as what had apparently been quite a fight waned.

“Oh, shit,” Rocket cursed. “What trouble did Quill get into now?”

Kraglin scanned the market and saw no sign of Peter or Gamora. He did see a merchant he had known since his Ravager days. “Hey, Ralof!”

The older merchant was packing away the blades he made, obviously deciding any more sales would be unlikely. He looked up, running a hand through his wild white hair but not taming it at all. “Kraglin!”

“You seen our friends? Peter Quill and Gamora?”

The older man nodded. “They were here. But then there was a fight and they took them.”

“Who took them?” Rocket demanded.

“Some Kree and Sakaarans. Your friends fought back, killed a few, but there was a lot of them. Then that fight broke out there,” he gestured to the crowd that was still churning with anger. “It’s not a good night. I’m going home.”

“Shit. The Kree,” Rocket muttered. “They’ve hated us for years.”

“Where’d they take ‘em?” Kraglin asked.

“How would I know? Wherever they came from, I would imagine.”

“Thanks, Ralof,” Kraglin said as the older merchant nodded and returned to packing up his things.

“We gotta get the _Quadrant_ fixed and find Quill and Gamora,” Rocket declared. “But how are we gonna find ‘em?”

“We can’t forget about Nebula,” Kraglin reminded. “We gotta get Nebula _and_ find Peter and Gamora.”

Rocket grumbled and kicked a clump of innocent grass that sprouted in a crack in the pavement at the edge of the marketplace. “You’re right. I’ll get the stuff and fix the ships. You know people here. Find out if any of ‘em know what happened to Quill and Gamora.”

 

* * *

 

Gamora woke in a small holding cell of some sort. She felt the uncomfortable aftereffects of being stunned, but otherwise was all right. Her first thought was of Peter, who she found unconscious on the floor beside her.

Rolling him onto his back, her fingers immediately went to the side of his neck. Gamora let out a sigh of relief when she felt the strong, steady rhythm of his heart. He was bleeding from a cut above his left eyebrow and his knuckles were skinned. She wasn’t surprised he had put up a fight, but hoped he hadn’t been hurt badly. Lifting his shirt, she was glad to see the bandage wrapped around his ribs was still clean and white and he hadn’t re-opened the slash wound she had stitched together not even a day ago.

Calmly, Gamora took stock of her situation. Her weapons were gone, as were Peter’s. She stood up, studying the small cell. The thick bars were made from some sort of metal alloy she couldn’t budge.

Gamora sat down and pulled Peter close, so his head rested on her lap. “You need to wake up,” she told him. “We’re in trouble and it’s going to take both of us to find a way out.”


	3. Chapter Three

CHAPTER THREE:

Kraglin walked dejectedly up the gangplank of the _Quadrant_.

“Where’s Quill?” Drax demanded as soon as he saw the former Ravager.

“I don’t know. No one’s seen nothing. No one knows where the Kree came from or where they went.”

Rocket came down the steps from the docking bay. He had discarded his sling so he could work on the ship and was cleaning his hands with a greasy rag. “Bullshit! Did you try every one of your contacts?”

“Well…”

“I am Groot?” the young Flora asked as he joined Rocket.

“No! We _will_ find them,” the raccoon stated vehemently. He returned his attention to Kraglin. “So? Did you try every single one of your contacts?”

“Most of ‘em,” he replied. “Might be a couple more I could try, _if_ I can find ‘em and _if_ they're willin' to talk to me.”

“Perhaps I can help,” Mantis offered. “My powers did help when we had to find Groot.”

Rocket nodded. “It’s worth a shot. You two go find out what happened to Quill and Gamora.”

“What about Nebula? She don’t have a lot of time before…” Kraglin’s voice trailed off.

“I’ll get her,” Rocket decided. “I just finished fixing the steering and shields on the _Benatar_. We’ll leave it here for you. Me and Groot and Drax will take the _Quadrant_ and get Nebula, but you better find Quill and Gamora while we’re gone.”

Kraglin nodded.

Rocket warned, “You know Nebula will kill us if we don’t find her sister.”

Kraglin knew Nebula well enough to know that was likely true. “We’ll find ‘em.” He looked at Mantis. “Let’s go.”

 

* * *

 

Quill groaned as consciousness prodded his brain. He hated the way he felt after being stunned. He heard his name spoken and forced his eyes open. A green blur finally focused into Gamora looking down at him. He realized his head was resting in her lap. Unfortunately, that was the only good thing about the situation. Memories of the unexpected fight in the market flooded back.

“Are you OK, Gamora?” he asked worriedly as he sat up despite the angry complaint the movement elicited from his wounded side. He leaned against the dull metal wall behind them.

“I’m fine, Peter, but our situation… I don’t even know where we are.”

“Who has us?” Quill asked. “Those Kree?”

“Yes. I’ve seen them and some Sakaarans, but also a few other races.”

“That doesn’t sound like Kree Purists,” Peter mused. “I thought this might be some of Ronan’s maniacs catching up with us, but they don’t like hanging out with other races.”

“I agree, but then who are these people?”

Quill rested his head against the wall behind him as the lingering ache of being stunned slowly faded, although his recent wound continued to throb unhappily. “I don’t know. Who else have we pissed off over the years?” After a moment, he asked, “Do you feel that? And hear that? We’re on a ship.”

As soon as he said it, Gamora heard and felt the low hum of engines reverberating through the metal. “That’s going to make it harder for the others to find us.”

“Yeah,” Quill agreed. “But it might just be our chance to escape. When we get wherever we’re going, they’ll probably move us off the ship. Once we’re out of this cell, we might be able to get away.”

“That depends on how heavily guarded we are.”

Peter nodded at the truth of the statement. “But even if we can’t get free then, we’ll at least be able to see where we are and what kind of security they have. If we know that, we can beat it and show Rocket he’s not the only one who can plan an escape.”

Gamora was almost convinced by his optimistic confidence, but she remembered her sister. “Nebula… Who will rescue her?”

Wrapping an arm around he shoulders, Quill pulled Gamora close. His voice was uncharacteristically serious as he said, “The others won’t let Nebula die. You know that.”

Gamora did know that. They were difficult at times and each had their own issues, but they were loyal and tenacious. Yet that didn’t ease her worry for her sister or their own predicament.

“Hear that?” Peter asked as the hum of the engine changed. “We’re slowing down. Probably coming into port.”

 

* * *

 

Two dozen heavily armed guards escorted Peter and Gamora from the ship. They were an odd assortment of races—mostly Kree, a number of Sakaarans, but also A’askavariians, Krylorians, and a handful of others. Quill squinted against the bright glow emanating from a strange orange sky. He was pretty sure he’d get a headache from the bright, ugly colour if he stayed under it for very long. While he tried to remember which planets had creamsickle skies, he surveyed the place they had landed.

Tall metal and concrete walls surrounded a compound of buildings and a large open area where at least thirty ships of various types were docked. Quill and Gamora were taken into one of the non-descript, square concrete buildings. He noticed the doorlocks were the basic sort Yondu had taught him how to hack when he was twelve years old. They were escorted two storeys down to a large room lit by stark white lights and pushed into a small cell in the corner. The barred door slammed shut with an ominous clang. Peter was especially unhappy that the cell lock was an A’askavariian puzzle-key design—one of the hardest, if not nearly impossible, to pick. One of the guards dumped Peter’s knapsack and their weapons on a table in the corner of the room and then they were left alone.

“Did you see anything that would help us escape?” Gamora asked.

“I’m working on it.” Quill rattled the door, testing the strength of the lock and hinges. Of course they would be solid. He moved to some of the thick metal bars. None of them had any hint of weakness. He turned to Gamora. “Don’t worry, we’ll think of something.”

“I still can’t figure out who these people are,” she said. “Or what they…” Her words trailed off as the door to the room opened and four Kree entered.

“Who are you and what do you want?” Quill demanded, turning towards them.

The tallest of the Kree, his blue face decorated with black paint, replied, “I am called Norav, and I will be asking the questions here.”

“Fine. Ask all you want,” Peter invited. “Doesn’t mean we’ll answer them.”

“Oh, I think you will.” The big Kree smiled smugly. He fixed his pale grey eyes on Gamora. “Daughter of Thanos, your father was a great man.”

“That monster was not my father,” Gamora spat.

Norav shook his head. “Mind yourself and have some respect for him. I am leader of those who recognise his wisdom and strive to carry on his vision. But your sister decided to disrupt it all. We invested time and units into that weapon and we want it back!”

Gamora and Peter shared a glance. So this wasn’t about them at all. It was about Nebula.

“She escaped," Norav continued. "But when we saw you were docked on Cassiar, we knew we could find her again.” He glared menacingly at them. “Where is she?”

“Why would I know?” Quill asked. “It’s not like she actually likes me.”

“I haven’t seen her in weeks,” Gamora added.

“Of course you would say that.” The Kree leader smiled cruelly. “I will give you one more chance to answer me.”

“We did answer you,” Quill replied. “We don’t know where she is and even if we did, I wouldn’t tell a whack-job like you.”

“Peter…” Gamora warned.

Norav sighed. “Very well.” He looked at his three companions. “Get her out of that cell. We will pry the answer from her.”

Fearlessly, Gamora stated, “I endured years of torture under Thanos. There is nothing you can do that I have not already survived.”

“We shall see,” Norav replied. He nodded to the other Kree.

“Don’t touch her!” Quill roared as they opened the cell door. He leapt forward, punching one in the face and throwing another to the ground. Then a rock-hard Kree fist slammed into the tender wound on his ribs and he collapsed to the concrete floor.

Gamora threw herself protectively across Peter. “Leave him alone!”

“Stop!” Norav bellowed. “It seems, Gamora, there is something you have not endured.” He looked to his three men. “Bring him and make her watch.”

“No!”

“Woman, you are in no position to make demands,” Norav thundered.

Quill wrestled to get free, but couldn’t break the vise-like grip of the guards as they dragged him from the cell. He felt the stitches in his side tearing and a trickle of warm blood leak from the re-opened wound. He met Gamora’s dark eyes as the barred cell door slammed shut. His expression was defiant. Hers showed a hint of worry.

The Kree chuckled when he saw it. “If you do not wish for him to suffer, tell me where your sister is.”

“Don’t tell him anything,” Quill insisted.

One of the guards ordered him to be silent while jerking him backwards. Quill winced as the sudden movement tugged uncomfortably at the abused skin on his ribs.

Norav’s eyes narrowed. “What have we found?” he asked softly. Resuming his normal commanding tone, he ordered, “Get his coat and shirt off.”

Despite Quill’s struggles, he was quickly stripped of his jacket. He managed to get an arm free and landed one solid punch that doubled over one of the guards, but was quickly restrained again. They tore off his grey shirt and tossed the pieces aside, revealing the white bandage dotted with fresh spots of red.

Norav drew a wicked-looking black knife and cut the bandage off, not caring that he sliced a little skin as well. “That looks painful,” the Kree said as he studied the slash on the left side of Quill’s ribs.

“Not as painful as listening to you,” Peter retorted.

Norav’s face took on an ugly expression. “Make him hurt,” he ordered the guard not pinning Quill’s arms. “And make sure he stays conscious. I want him to feel everything.”

“Roughing me up?” Somehow Peter managed to sound unafraid and unimpressed. “ _That’s_ original,” he added sarcastically.

Surprised by the response, Norav asked, “Then what do you suggest?”

“That you go fuck yourself.”

“Peter, don’t make things worse,” Gamora pleaded.

“You should listen to her,” Norav advised. He turned to Gamora. “Are you certain you will not tell me the whereabouts of your sister and our weapon?”

Quill met Gamora’s eyes and shook his head.

She took a deep breath. Keeping her eyes locked with Quill’s, she softly said, “Sorry.”

Peter grunted as the first vicious punch hit him.


	4. Chapter Four

CHAPTER FOUR:

“No one here knows anything,” Kraglin complained as he boarded the _Benatar_ with Mantis. “Rocket _and_ Nebula are gonna kill me if I can’t find Peter and Gamora.”

Her dark eyes wide with worry, Mantis asked, “Are you certain there is no one else, _anywhere_ , we can ask for help?”

“No.” The former Ravager slumped into a seat at the table in the living area of the ship and poured himself a drink. He dreaded facing the others with no good news.

Mantis stopped him from lifting his glass with a soft hand on his wrist. “Please, Kraglin. There must be something we can do.”

“I tell ya, there’s nothin’.”

Her antennae glowing, she calmly stated, “Focus, Kraglin. I trust you to find them.”

He paused and let go of the glass of harsh alcohol as an idea hit him. It was a long shot, but… Moving to the large viewscreen, Kraglin entered some information and nodded to himself at the result that blinked back. “Buckle up, Mantis. We’re going to Contraxia,” he declared.

“Contraxia? Why?”

“It’s close by and he’s there.”

“Peter?”

“No. Stakar.”

“Can you not just call him?” Mantis gestured to the viewscreen.

Kraglin shook his head. “No. There’s some things that got to be done in person.”

 

* * *

 

Her first time on Contraxia, Mantis stood on the gangplank of the _Benatar_ mesmerised by the flashing multicoloured lights that brightened the night sky. She pointed to a bot-brothel. “Kraglin, are they…”

“Don’t worry ‘bout that,” Kraglin interrupted quickly. “This ain’t no place for you, so you stay on the ship ‘til I get back. Close the hatch and don’t open it for no one but me.”

“But what if I can help?”

He shook his head. “No. This is something I gotta do myself.”

“Good luck,” Mantis wished with an awkward smile.

“Yeah.” Kraglin watched her close the hatch, then muttered, “We’re gonna need it.” He walked a short distance down the docks and stopped in front of a familiar ship, one he hadn’t been on board in many years. Taking a deep breath, he approached the guard stationed at the gangplank. “Kraglin Obfonteri requesting permission to come aboard.”

“Been a long time, Kraglin,” the Ravager guard replied. “What do you want?”

“That’s between me and Stakar.”

The guard shrugged and motioned for him to board. "He's on the bridge."

Kraglin followed corridors that were familiar despite the years that had passed. He climbed a steep metal staircase to the bridge.

As soon as he entered, Stakar swiveled his captain’s chair around to face him and asked, “What brings you here now, after all these years? Got tired of your Guardian friends?”

“No, sir. I came ‘cause my friends are in trouble.” Kraglin explained the disappearance of Quill and Gamora from the market on Cassiar. “I was hopin’ you could help me find ‘em. You got contacts in places I never even heard of.”

“And why should I help you?” Stakar asked bluntly. “You’re not a Ravager anymore.”

Kraglin stood a little straighter despite Stakar’s intimidating scrutiny. “I’ll always be a member of Yondu’s crew and Yondu’s boy is in trouble.”

 

* * *

 

“I am Groot.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know it’s cold,” Rocket replied. He wore a heavy coat and had wrapped one of Quill’s scarves around his neck. “It’s frickin’ Ganderia. It’s _always_ cold.”

For once, even Drax was wearing a shirt. And a coat. And still he shivered at the bitter chill.

Its sun far away, Ganderia languished in a permanent pale, bleak light. Frigid winds swept across the desolate landscape, piling snow into giant drifts as more flakes fell from a churning dark grey sky. All but the closest objects were indistinct, shadowy forms.

“I see no ship,” Drax declared.

“Look around,” Rocket ordered. “This is where it’s supposed to be.” His hope of finding anything on the miserable planet faded as minutes ticked by and the snowfall grew worse as the biting winds blew even harder. His ears grew numb and his whiskers drooped as ice coated them. They would not be able to stay outside much longer without risking their own lives.

“I am Groot! I am Groot!”

Both Drax and Rocket raced towards the sound of the young tree’s voice. The raccoon tripped over something and sprawled into a fluffy snowdrift. Shaking himself free of the white flakes, he looked back at what his foot had caught and saw the metallic edge of a spacecraft wing.

“Good job, Groot! Drax, find the door!”

The trio dug frantically as the blowing snow tried to thwart their efforts. Finally, Drax bellowed in triumph.

“The hatch! It’s here!” The big man wrestled with the frozen locking lever, and with a roar of frustration wrenched it open.

Rocket clicked on a flashlight. Its beam cut a narrow shaft of light into the icy darkness inside. The air smelled of burnt wiring and something slightly sulphurous.

“Nebula!” Drax called, his booming voice louder than usual in the silent stillness of the buried ship.

Rocket swept the light back and forth across the main cabin, revealing hanging wires, a broken viewscreen, glittering icicles, and various bits of debris. Then the bright beam hit a spot of blue.

“I am Groot!”

Drax raced forward and knelt at Nebula’s side. “I don’t think she’s alive.”

Rocket cursed and hurried to them.

“I am Groot?” the Flora asked worriedly.

Rocket’s fingers went to Nebula’s neck, then to a spot on her cybernetic arm. “Her body mods lowered her metabolism. She should come outta it quick when she warms up. Drax, get her back to the _Quadrant_.”

The big man easily lifted Nebula and carried her towards the hatchway. Rocket and Groot began to follow, but the raccoon spotted something he couldn’t resist—a silvery case with numerous wires and some sort of control panel.

“Hey, Groot, I bet that’s the weapon Nebula stole. Bring it with us.”

“I am Groot?”

“No, I’m not joking. Bring it!”

 

* * *

 

Drax laid Nebula on the bed in the quarters she used during her occasional visits. He tucked blankets around her with the gentleness of a father. As he left the room, he turned up the heater. Then he promptly took off his coat and shirt and tossed them aside, hating how the cloth rubbed against his sensitive nipples.

Returning to the galley, he found Rocket talking to Groot with the large explosive device sitting in the middle of the floor.

“Well, it’s good, but it’s not great. Any idiot can see that,” the raccoon evaluated. “I’d call it a weapon of destruction, not a weapon of mass destruction.”

“I am Groot,” the youthful tree replied with a shrug.

“Whatever? You kids don’t appreciate…” He waved a hand dismissively. “Whatever… We got bigger issues, like finding Quill and Gamora.”

Drax tapped on one of the viewscreens. “There are no messages from Mantis or Kraglin.”

“So call ‘em,” Rocket ordered. “Find out what’s going on.”

“What is going on?” Nebula asked harshly as she entered the galley, holding a blanket around herself for warmth. “Where is Gamora?”

“See, Groot, I told you she’d be fine,” Rocket said.

Drax answered Nebula. “Quill and Gamora disappeared from the market on Cassiar.”

“What do you mean, they disappeared?”

The big man looked confused. “Disappear means to vanish, to become lost, to be missing, to…”

“I know what the word means,” Nebula growled. “I want to know how it happened.”

Rocket explained what had occurred on Cassiar and that Kraglin and Mantis were looking for them.

“You should not have lost my sister, Fox!”

“I am Groot!”

“I’m not a raccoon!” he objected. “And I didn’t lose your sister!”

“She’s not here!”

A beeping interrupted the argument. Drax answered the call and Kraglin’s face appeared on the viewscreen.

“Hey, guys, I got some…” He noticed Nebula in the background. “Oh, hey, Nebula! I’m real glad you’re OK.”

Her expression didn’t change. “Where is my sister, Kraglin?” she demanded.

“Yeah, uh, I got good and bad news ‘bout that. Stakar’s contacts claim some Thanos supporters took ‘em, but they got two bases, days apart. One’s on a moon orbiting the planet Borrego. The other’s on Tithonia.”

“They will be on Tithonia,” Nebula informed. “I stole the weapon from the moon.” She almost smiled. “There is little left of that base. They would not take prisoners to a ruin.”

“Even at full speed it’ll take us hours to get there,” Rocket complained.

“We’re on Contraxia,” Kraglin informed. “It ain’t far from here. Not even a couple of hours.”

Nebula fixed her eyes on the former Ravager. Her expression was intense, grim, and just a little frightening, but he noticed a touch of concern in her voice as she said, “Kraglin, help my sister.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied.


	5. Chapter Five

CHAPTER FIVE:

Quill was still conscious, but he looked terrible. Blood ran down the side of his face and dripped off his chin. Vicious punches had left dark bruises on his torso and re-opened the recent wound that cut across the left side of his ribs. Blood spattered the concrete floor where the two Kree guards held Quill while the third hit him as Norav watched.

“Stop,” the Kree leader ordered. He studied Peter, who looked as though he would collapse if not held by the two guards. “Are you ready to reveal Nebula’s location?” he asked.

Quill spat a gob of blood from his spilt lip onto the Kree’s black boot.

Anger flashed in Norav’s pale eyes and he lashed out suddenly, brutally punching Quill’s bleeding wound.

Peter couldn’t stifle a moan as his knees buckled. The guards held him tight and prevented him from falling. Somehow, he regained his footing and when he looked back at Norav, it was with a defiant glare.

The Kree leader frowned and turned to Gamora. “What about you? Tell me where your sister is and his ordeal will be over.”

Gamora tried to be stoic, but Quill could see the hurt and guilt in her eyes as she spoke his name questioningly. “Peter?”

“If I can take it, you can stay quiet,” Quill replied. There was pain in his voice, but she could also hear his strength and core of steel. “They’re not the first assholes to beat me up. Not even the most creative.”

Norav sighed as though he was getting bored. “This tactic is getting us nowhere. Put him back in the cell. I have an idea of what _will_ make them talk.”

Quill was dragged back to the cell by the two guards. As they roughly pushed him inside, he saw something that gave him a glimmer of hope—he saw where one of the guards kept the key to the cell’s puzzle-lock on his belt. Then he hit the ground hard and groaned with the pain it added to his already abused body.

The barred door slammed shut as Gamora knelt and gathered Quill into her arms. She was gentle with him, but her expression was filled with fury. She fixed her eyes on Norav and vowed, “I will kill you.”

The Kree leader chuckled mirthlessly. “You are not the first to tell me that.”

“I will be the last.”

“You are not in the position to issue threats. _I_ am. I will give you some time to consider this. Tell me Nebula’s location or I will begin using the techniques of my homeworld to obtain the answer. You know what trials he will have to endure. You _will_ break. Everyone breaks eventually.”

Quill pushed himself to an elbow. “Get used to disappointment.”

Norav’s pale eyes narrowed, but he ignored the comment. Turning on his heel, he led the other three men from the room.

Gingerly, Quill lowered himself back to the ground. He closed his eyes, trying to focus on a part of him that didn’t hurt. He couldn’t find one.

Gamora reached through the bars to grab a piece of Quill’s shirt the Kree had tossed aside. She eased Peter so his head rested on her lap. After wiping away the worst of the blood from his side, she leaned over him to examine the wound. All her carefully placed stitches had been torn, so she plucked the black silk from the bloody mess. Her touch was gentle, but she saw Peter’s jaw tighten, although he made no complaint. Once she was satisfied all the bits of thread were removed, she pressed the scrap of cloth firmly against the wound to stop the sluggish bleeding.

Quill sucked in a sharp breath with the added pain. He pried his eyes open and was unhappy to see a tear escape Gamora’s eye.

“Peter, I…”

He reached up and wiped away the tear with his thumb. “We’re going to be all right,” he said with a confident smile despite the pain lurking in his green eyes. “I have a plan.”

“How much of one?”

“Maybe half,” he replied honestly. “When they come back, let them take me out of here.”

“This sounds like a terrible plan already,” Gamora objected. “I can’t stand seeing them hurt you more.”

“They won’t. Before they start whatever they have planned, we’ll give in and tell them Nebula’s location. Not her real location, some other random place.”

“We can’t just tell them _any_ place,” Gamora reasoned. “They’ll probably attack and kill innocent people.”

“Yeah, OK, you’re right.” Quill shifted a little, trying to get more comfortable, and bit back a soft groan. “How about sending them to someone like Offa Neroon. He has a compound on Contraxia. His main business is human trafficking, but he’ll do just about anything if the price is right.”

Gamora pondered it a moment, then nodded. “If Norav’s men kill Neroon and his men, that’s one less slaver in the galaxy. That is acceptable. But how does that get us out of this cell?”

“So the one guard has the key to the puzzle-lock on his belt. When they toss me back in here, I’ll pickpocket him. We wait a couple of minutes for at least some of these idiots to go to Neroon, and then we walk out, steal a ship, and fly home.”

“I’m back to believing this is a terrible plan,” Gamora decided. “Do you have any idea how much luck we need for it to work? What if they don’t believe us? What if they don’t put you back in the cell? What if we can’t sneak out and get a ship? Can you even walk?”

“Gamora, do you have any better plan?” Quill asked. “He’s going to be back any minute and we can’t let these crazies get Nebula.” His voice softened as he confessed, “And I don’t know how much more I can handle.”

She was quiet for a long, pensive moment. “No, I don’t have any better ideas.” She paused before asking, “How bad is it?”

“I can still walk, maybe even run.” He smiled with his usual bold confidence. “We’ll make it out of here.”

“I love you, Peter.” Gamora leaned down and kissed him gently, despite the coppery taste of blood still on his lips.

“How sweet,” Norav said sarcastically as he and the three guards returned. He set a black jar he had brought with him on the table at the side of the room and turned back to Peter and Gamora. “Have you decided to be more reasonable?” he asked. “After all, Nebula isn’t even your real sister. What do you really owe her?”

Quill pushed himself to a sitting position leaning against a wall. “There’s more to family than being related.”

Norav looked confused. “That doesn’t make sense.”

“Well, I wouldn’t expect an asshole like you to understand,” Quill retorted.

“Peter…” Gamora said with exasperation.

“Very well.” Norav gestured to the guards, who opened the cell and roughly dragged Quill out.

Norav moved to the table and found a pair of gloves he pulled on. From the black jar he had brought, he poured a bright yellow powder into his hand. Showing it to Gamora, he said, “I know you know what this is.”

“You don’t need that, Norav,” Gamora replied quickly. “Put it away.”

“This was a favourite of your father for those who disobeyed.”

“Thanos was _not_ my father.”

Norav looked angry at the continued denial. “Tell Star-Lord what this is,” he ordered, “or I will use it on him and he can discover for himself.”

Gamora’s dark eyes met Peter’s. “It’s Kree venom powder. It is made from the venom of a sea creature native to the Kree homeworld. When pressed into an open wound, even a small scratch, it is a very effective torture.” Her eyes drifted to the bleeding wound on his ribs and then returned to his face. She looked frightened. “You don’t need that,” she said again as she looked to Norav. “My sister is on Contraxia.”

The Kree leader smiled with cruel satisfaction. “I told you, everyone breaks. Now where on Contraxia will I find Nebula and our weapon?”

Sounding defeated, Gamora answered, “With Offa Neroon. He has a heavily guarded compound and we paid him generously to keep Nebula safe there.”

“You better not be lying,” Norav warned.

“I’m not. Please, you don’t need that. Just let him go,” Gamora pleaded.

Norav said nothing. He studied Gamora intently. It wasn't an act. She was genuinely fearful. He turned to Quill, who looked concerned, but not afraid. With a vicious smile, he pressed the yellow powder into Quill’s wound.

Peter sucked in a breath at the sharp sting of pain, but it quickly faded. “What the Hell was that for?” he demanded. “We told you where she is!”

“Consider it punishment for trying my patience.”

Quill argued vehemently and wrestled against the men holding him as they dragged him back to the cell. After a struggle, one of them brutally punched his wounded side and violently shoved him into the cell. The barred door slammed shut with a resounding clang.

“Enjoy the next few hours, Star-Lord,” Norav said with a malicious gleam in his pale eyes. “I’ll be back in a little while to see how you’re doing.” He motioned to his men. “We need to send enough ships so there will be no trouble from this Offa Neroon.”

As soon as the Kree left, Peter pushed himself to a sitting position looking very pleased with himself. He smiled as he held up the puzzle-lock key. Gamora, however, looked terrified. She grabbed the bloody scrap of his shirt and frantically tried to clean as much powder from the wound as possible.

“Ow! What the Hell!” he exclaimed. “Gamora, don’t worry. That powder doesn’t work on me. It was a little sting, but it’s fine now.”

She didn’t stop scrubbing the powder from the wound. “That’s part of the torture. You get to wait and contemplate what will be the most painful experience of your life. Maybe I can clean it off before it’s absorbed by your blood. Maybe you have a chance.”

“Wait. What? What does that stuff do?”

“Just trust me. I hope this works.” When she was satisfied she had cleaned the wound as much as possible, Gamora took the puzzle-key from Peter and unlocked the door. She found the other part of his shirt and quickly tore it into strips that she used to bind the wound.

“Are you going to tell me what that stuff does?” Quill asked as she knotted the makeshift bandage.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“You can’t use the phrase ‘most painful experience of your life’ and then tell me not to worry about it!”

Gamora gently stroked his cheek, sadness and fear in her dark eyes. “About an hour after the venom powder is absorbed by the blood, it causes extreme pain. Hopefully I cleaned it before it was absorbed.” He could see she didn’t believe her optimistic words. “I will tell you more when we are safe.” She helped him to his feet, feeling him sway slightly before he found some hidden reserve of strength to steady himself.

“I’m OK,” Quill answered her unspoken question. “I’m OK,” he repeated softly, sounding like he was trying to convince himself it was true.

Gamora moved to the table, where she found her sword. She felt much better with it clipped to her belt. Quill gingerly slipped on his jacket, then picked up his knapsack and blasters.

“Ready?” he asked Gamora.

She nodded.


	6. Chapter Six

CHAPTER SIX:

Moving quietly, Quill and Gamora made their way up two flights of stairs to the surface. Peter had no problem hacking the simple doorlocks. Only once were they almost discovered by an A’askavariian walking down a hall, but Gamora quickly pulled Quill into a dimly lit side passage and they went unnoticed. As they approached the door to the outside, Gamora began to believe that maybe, just maybe, they would escape.

Peter opened the door a crack. It was dark outside, the weird orange sky now a dark chocolate brown. Bright lights illuminated the compound. Half the ships that had been there earlier were gone. He quickly surveyed the ones that remained, trying to determine which would be the best to take. He liked the small M-ship, but disliked just how much of the brightly lit compound they had to cross to get to it. The only good thing was that being nighttime, the compound was quiet except for a few sleepy guards at the main gate as many of Norav’s men had departed for Contraxia in their futile quest to get Nebula.

“How are we going to get to a ship unseen?” Gamora asked.

“I don’t know,” Quill replied honestly. “Walk towards one like we belong here? Run to one if someone notices us?”

“Peter, that’s not a plan,” Gamora stated.

“I’m not seeing a lot of other options.”

Gamora leaned in and looked through the slightly open door. She was disappointed that Quill was right. There was no easy way to get to any ship. “We’ll have to try it.”

“Go for the M-ship,” Peter said. “It’ll be the fastest… Nothing else here can catch it.” Slipping out the door, he and Gamora walked towards the ship. They had not gotten far when there was a startled shout from across the compound followed by more angry voices.

Gamora broke into a run. Quill tried to follow, but after only two steps stumbled to his knees. He was hurt. The beating and blood loss had sapped his usual strength. He pushed himself to his feet and then Gamora was at his side. She pulled his arm over her shoulders and helped him run as blaster fire erupted behind them.

An energy pulse cut the air so close to Gamora’s ear she felt the hot breath. Another singed the shoulder of Quill’s jacket. He stumbled again and Gamora knew they would never make it to the M-ship. She changed direction to the nearest vessel, a medium-sized cargo and troop transport. They stumbled up the gangplank together, wild blaster fire exploding all around them.

Gamora hit the button to close the hatch and practically dragged Quill to the bridge. He groaned as she dropped him into the co-pilot’s seat and his body complained about all the abuse it had sustained.

Gamora dropped into the pilot’s seat and buckled herself in. Quill fumbled with his seatbelt, but everything finally clicked into place as the engines roared to life.

The controls were unfamiliar, but Gamora found the important things, like the shields and weapons system as the ship lifted off. Being a transport, it wasn’t heavily armed. There was only a single plasma cannon, but she knew they would have to use it when only a few minutes into the flight the first signs of pursuit blinked onto the viewscreen in front of her.

The ship lurched as heavy weapons fire hit it. Gamora tugged on the stick, attempting to evade pursuit, but the transport wasn’t built for speed or manoeuvrability.

Quill gritted his teeth and sat up straighter in his seat. His face was taut with barely mastered pain, but there was stubborn determination in his green eyes as he slammed his controls into flight position.

“What are you doing?” Gamora exclaimed.

“Flying. You man the weapon.”

The lumbering transport took on new life and seemed to behave more like a sleek fighter. Although Quill had proven many times he was an exceptional pilot, Gamora was still impressed by his skills. He guided the ship into a tight arc that brought them behind the six ships pursuing them. Gamora hit two with the plasma cannon before the remaining vessels scattered out of the line of fire. Circling around in a very risky move, Quill slipped the transport between two pursuing ships and set them up to crash into each other.

Peter glanced at the readouts on the viewscreen in front of him and cursed.

“What’s wrong?” Gamora asked.

“We can’t keep this up,” he informed. “We stole a ship with almost no fuel. If I keep flying like this, we’ll be out of fuel in minutes, just drifting in space.”

“There’s still two ships after us.”

“I know, I know. I’m working on it.”

Quill turned the ship sharply, coming up behind on of the ships. Gamora waited for it to settle into the crosshairs of the cannon. Her finger tightened on the trigger, but the transport was rocked by a blast of weapons fire and the shot went wide.

“One more hit like that and the shields will be down,” Gamora informed, her voice holding a hint of worry.

Quill cursed again. He wiped away the sweat beading his forehead with the back of his hand. He winced as he hit the cut above his eyebrow and smeared some of the blood leaking from it across his face. He blinked away the dark edges that had crept into his vision and forced his mind away from all the complaints his battered body was sending him. He focused on the two remaining ships, taking the clunky transport into an impressive roll to avoid weapons fire and managing to come around broadside to both. This time Gamora didn’t miss either of the shots.

“Nice job,” Quill complimented as he slumped in his seat in relief. “Find us the closest habitable planet and let’s hope we have enough fuel to get there.”

“Valbara,” she replied after a quick search on the navigation computer. “It’s an uninhabited desert planet only twenty clicks away.” She sent the information to Peter’s console.

Quill tapped the fuel gauge. The needle didn’t move from being pegged on empty. They might just be able to reach the planet that glittered golden-yellow against the darkness of space. Then the main engine flamed out. The ship slowed, but the secondary engines continued to carry it towards the planet. As they entered the atmosphere, those engines also sputtered out.

“Well, at least gravity will help us land now,” Peter said with false cheerfulness.

Or crash,” Gamora replied more realistically.

“Nah. Not while I’m flying.”

The ship started dropping fast, but Quill kept its nose up and guided it in a wide arc towards an area of vast golden sand dunes. At least in the sand sea at least there weren’t any trees or giant rocks they could hit and he hoped the sand would absorb some of the impact. Despite that, he knew the landing would still be a hard one.


	7. Chapter Seven

CHAPTER SEVEN:

Glass shattered and metal screeched as pieces of the transport were ripped from the hull as the ship impacted the surface of the planet. Peter and Gamora were jolted violently as it bounced twice before ploughing through a dune and skidding to a halt in a swirl of sun-coloured sand.

After letting out a long groan, Quill commented, “We’ve had worse landings.”

Gamora knew few pilots were skilled enough to glide an unwieldy transport vessel into a landing without catastrophic results. He had done it while wounded after being tortured. “Peter…” She set a gentle hand on his forearm. Words were never her strong suit, but she and Quill had become masters of unspoken communication with each other.

Quill acknowledged her compliment with a genuine smile, despite the fact his entire body ached. He fumbled with the buckle of his seatbelt, his co-ordination suddenly taking a nosedive as adrenaline quickly drained away.

After unbuckling her own seatbelt, Gamora knelt beside Quill’s seat and stilled his hands. She easily undid the buckle he struggled with.

“Thanks,” he said tiredly.

Always practical, Gamora noted, “This isn’t a good place to be. We’re too close to that base. As soon as Norav gets organised, he’ll search for us. I’m sure he’ll look here.”

“It’s not like we had much of a choice of landing sites,” Quill replied. He rested his head against the back of his seat. The ache assaulting his body seemed to be getting worse. “Call the others while we still have battery power. Maybe they can pick us up before those crazy Thanos supporters find us.”

Nodding, Gamora leaned over him and tapped his console to call the _Quadrant_.

Drax’s face startled Quill as it suddenly appeared on the viewscreen in front of him.

“You look terrible, Quill!” the big man exclaimed.

Before Peter could reply, Groot appeared. “I am Groot,” he agreed.

Rocket pushed the others aside. “Kraglin couldn’t get there this fast.”

Nebula appeared on the screen next to the raccoon. “Sister, are you all right?”

Gamora felt relief knowing her sister had been rescued. “It is good to see you, Nebula. And we’re fine, for now.”

“Kraglin and Mantis are headed to Tithonia to rescue you,” Rocket informed. “What the Hell is going on?”

“We escaped a base of Thanos supporters,” Gamora explained. “But the ship we took didn’t have enough fuel to get far.”

Rocket interrupted, “I thought you were a better thief than that, Quill.”

“Hey, it’s not like I had much of a choice!” Peter argued.

Gamora continued, used to ignoring their bickering. “We’re on Valbara in the Sand Sea. Come pick us up.”

“Yeah, yeah,” the Rocket agreed as he leaned out of view to set a new course. When he reappeared, he said, “We’re headed there now. But call Kraglin and Mantis on the _Benatar_. They’re a lot closer.”

“Sister,” Nebula said. “I am glad you are free.” Then the viewscreen went blank.

Gamora leaned over Quill again as she used his console to call the _Benatar_.

Mantis smiled when she answered the call. “Gamora! Peter! We are supposed to be rescuing you.” She looked away. “Kraglin! It’s Gamora and Peter!”

The former Ravager appeared next to Mantis. “You guys escape?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Quill affirmed.

“But now we’re stuck in the Sand Sea on Valbara,” Gamora added. “And the Thanos supporters are probably already looking for us.”

Kraglin’s eyes flicked to a readout to his right. “We’re about an hour away, ma’am, but this ship’s a fast one. I’ll see if I can shave some time from that. You know, Quill, you look like shit. What happened?”

“Protecting my girlfriend’s sister.”

“Doubt she’ll say it, but thanks, Pete. Be there soon.” Kraglin ended the call.

“Come with me, Peter,” Gamora encouraged. “Let me get you cleaned up while we wait. Kraglin was right about your appearance.”

Quill accepted her help to stand, swaying slightly. Gamora wrapped and arm around his waist to steady him as they walked together into the cargo hold. A small corner served as both galley and sleeping quarters for the ship’s crew. He sighed as he sat on one of the berths, clutching his side tightly. The throbbing pain was getting worse and spreading to the rest of his body.

Gamora filled a bowl with warm water and rummaged around the galley to find a soft cloth so she could properly clean Peter’s wounds. She sat beside him, her dark eyes filled with concern as she helped him out of his jacket and carefully peeled away the makeshift bandage she had hastily tied around his ribs. She frowned at the bruises darkening his torso and the inflamed laceration on his side.

“Sorry, Gamora,” Quill said softly as she carefully wiped away the blood on his face.

“Sorry?” She paused in confusion, searching his green eyes for an explanation. “Sorry for what? You were the one beaten and tortured.”

“Yeah, but I saw how you looked when it was happening. It hurt you.”

“Of course it did.” Satisfied his face was clean, she rinsed out the cloth in the bowl of warm water. “Do you think I like seeing you hurt? Especially for me? And the worst is still to come.”

Despite her gentle care, Quill flinched and sucked in a breath as she began cleaning his side. “That powder?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“So what exactly does that stuff do?” Quill had tried to avoid thinking about it, hoping Gamora’s brief, dire warning was an overreaction, despite the fact he knew she didn’t overreact.

“It begins with an ache that spreads from the wound,” she explained. “Then a fever will quickly come. Pain will grow until waves of intense agony make you believe your blood is boiling acid. Death will seem a favourable option to escape the torture. But it will end. I promise you, it will end.”

“You know from experience.”

Gamora nodded. “It was a favourite of Thanos. There is nothing that can be done to ease the pain, except to keep the fever cool. That brings a little comfort to focus on. Eventually black blood flows from the wound as the body rejects the poison. The fever cools, the pain eases, but weakness and soreness last a few days.” She saw the fear growing in Quill’s green eyes. “Peter?”

“Things are about to really suck,” he said softly.

Gamora’s hand went to his forehead. His skin was too warm. Much too warm. “You are fevered. The pain will soon begin.”

“It already has.”

“Lay down.” Gamora helped him ease back on the berth. “I promise I will be here with you. You will not be forced to face this alone.”

Despite the ache spreading through his body, Quill felt a pang of sadness for Gamora. He hated the thought of her suffering alone. Then he couldn’t stifle a cry as the first truly terrible spasm hit.

 

* * *

 

Sweat streaked Quill’s face and chest. Pain flowed through his blood and seemed to touch every corner of his body. Gamora held his hand as he moaned and writhed in agony on the berth. She pressed a cool, damp cloth against his forehead. “Feel that. Focus on that. You will get through this, Peter,” she encouraged. “Just a little bit longer,” she added, although she was unsure just how long he would be forced to endure the torture.

A proximity alarm sounded from the cockpit. “Oh, thank goodness,” Gamora breathed. “Do you hear that, Peter? Kraglin and Mantis are here.”

Her assumption was quickly proven wrong as a blast of weapons fire hit the aft quarter of the ship, creating a large hole in the hull. Before she could react, another explosion tore away the entire stern section.

Norav, holding a traditional Kree warhammer over his shoulder, stepped through the smoke with a group of his odd assortment of followers. “You should not have tried to escape. The trials you will now face will be even worse.” He nodded to his men and ordered, “Bring them.”

Gamora leapt into action. Drawing her sword, she channelled all the anger she felt about what Peter was enduring into her tenacious fighting and deadly actions. She was outnumbered, but was also an extremely skilled warrior. She moved swiftly, dancing around deadly strikes while slashing and stabbing with uncanny accuracy.

Fighting through the agony that coursed through his body, Quill clenched his jaw and propped himself on an elbow. He drew one of his blasters, his grip shaky as he fought through waves of pain, each one seemingly worse than the last. His body felt as though it was burning from the inside out. He wanted to scream against the torment, but needed to help Gamora.

Somehow steadying his hand, Quill squeezed the trigger and dropped a man aiming a blaster at her. He fired again, dropping a second man.

Then another explosion rocked the ship. The impact jolted Quill from the berth and he fell to the metal floor. His blaster slipped from his grip. He battled against the anguish that assaulted his body to grab the weapon again. Pain didn’t matter. Gamora did.

From the corner of her eye, Gamora saw Peter struggling to help in the fight. She knew the pain he was enduring was excruciating. She wanted to go to him and offer what comfort she could. But Norav and his Thanos supporters pressed closer and Gamora feared she would be overwhelmed.

With a sharp whistle, a glowing red arrow darted into the ship.

That meant only one thing. Kraglin and Mantis had arrived. Trusting them to watch her back, Gamora ignored the blaster fire that erupted around her and focused on Norav. She cut down a Kree, pushed aside a big Krylorian, and ducked under a swing of Norav’s warhammer that would have smashed her skull. She blocked the Kree leader’s next swing, the dark metal of his hammer clanging against the glinting steel of her sword. The ringing impact jarred her arms, but Gamora recovered quickly and sliced deep into the muscle of Norav’s right arm.

The big Kree took a step backwards, a flicker of fear in his pale eyes. The sound of blaster fire was fading and she could still hear Kraglin’s whistling, so Gamora hoped that meant they were winning.

Norav struggled to lift his heavy warhammer with his wounded arm. “Gamora, daughter of Thanos, why will you not recognise your father’s greatness?” he pleaded.

“I told you, Thanos was _not_ my father,” Gamora replied. “And I promised you, I would kill you.” She easily knocked aside Norav’s attempt to swing his hammer and plunged her blade into his heart. She watched the life drain from his pale eyes, then turned to find the fight ending.

Kraglin whistled the Yaka arrow to his side and deftly caught it.

Mantis awkwardly held a smoking rifle. “That’s how you take ass!” she declared.

Gamora didn’t waste any time. She rushed to Quill and dropped to her knees at his side. Holding him tenderly, she felt his body trembling, saw the agony in his eyes as he desperately called her name before clenching his jaw and letting out a ragged moan as another roaring spasm of pain hit him.

“I’m here, Peter,” she soothed as she ran her fingers through his hair, feeling the terrible fever-heat rising from his skin. “Mantis! Please! Can you help him?”


	8. Chapter Eight

CHAPTER EIGHT:

Consciousness came slowly to Quill. His last memories were a mix of blaster fire, Gamora fighting, and excruciating pain like he had never known existed. His body still ached everywhere, but that discomfort was nothing compared to what he had felt earlier. He shifted slightly, pressing a hand to his wounded side and feeling a clean bandage wrapped around his ribs. Drained from his ordeal, Quill was reluctant to awaken, but managed to force his eyes open.

“Finally,” a low voice stated impatiently.

“Huh?” Quill’s question ended in a soft moan. Everything _really_ still hurt. As his eyes focused, he realized he was laying in his quarters on the _Quadrant_. Clearly he had missed a few things. Like how he had left Valbara and ended up in his bed. Turning his head slowly, he saw Nebula sitting in a chair next to his bed.

“I have things to tell you and you have been sleeping,” Nebula stated, sounding slightly irritated. But Quill was used to that. She usually sounded irritated with him.

“Where’s Gamora?” His throat was dry, his voice raspy. He eyed a jug of water on the small table next to the bed. Nebula didn’t get the hint.

“Gamora is waiting until I am finished. I will talk to you alone.”

“Um… OK?” Peter was just a little bit worried where the conversation was headed. His relationship with Nebula had never been the best and he still hurt too much to do anything if she was really angry with him.

“My sister told me you allowed yourself to be tortured to protect me. Why?” Nebula appeared genuinely confused. “I have never done anything for you. Never shown you any preference.”

“You don’t have to,” Quill replied. “You’re family, Nebula. We protect each other.”

“It was not that way with Thanos.”

“Well, it is with Star-Lord.”

Nebula was silent for a moment. “Thank you. Maybe my sister is right about you.” She abruptly stood and left his quarters.

Gamora entered the room as her sister departed. Quill smiled and spoke her name. She poured him a glass of water. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she helped him sit up to drink it.

“Thanks,” he said as he handed the empty glass back to her and settled back against his pillow. “You had Mantis knock me out.”

Gamora nodded. “I know you don’t like it, but…”

“Anything was better than that torture.”

“Mantis had a hard time making you sleep.” She paused. “You know I have experienced the Kree venom powder. You should not have been able to fight. The pain is far too strong.”

“My love for you is stronger,” Quill replied.

Gamora loved Peter’s honest and straightforward emotions. She smiled softly as she savoured the deep connection they shared. Gently stroking his stubbled cheek, she asked, “How are you feeing?”

“You want an honest answer?” he asked with an endearing, lopsided smile.

“Will it make me set course for the nearest hospital?”

“Probably,” Quill acknowledged. “So I’ll lie. I’m fine.”

“Peter,” Gamora gave him her _be serious_ look.

“I don’t need a hospital. You know everything they did was meant to hurt, not cause permanent damage or kill.”

“That doesn’t stop me from worrying about you. Or wanting to ease your pain.”

“Yeah. Pain.” Quill tried not to look as worried as he felt. “Please tell me that weird Kree torture powder is done. I don’t think I can handle that again.”

“Black blood flowed from the wound over two hours ago. That should be the end of the worst pain, but your body will ache for a few days.”

“And I’ll probably have some nightmares,” he added with unabashed honesty.

“Then I will be here to help you through them,” Gamora promised, just as she had for him after Ego. Just as he had for her after Thanos. Her expression slipped into sadness. “I’m so sorry, Peter.”

“For what?”

Gamora fingered the edge of the bandage wrapped around his ribs, then skimmed over one of the darkest bruises on his torso. “So much pain because of me.”

“I don’t remember you beating the shit out of me.”

“But you were protecting _my_ sister.”

“Who is a member of _our_ family.”

“I don’t know if she would do the same for you,” Gamora admitted.

“You might be surprised at that. And even if she wouldn’t, it doesn’t change anything.”

Gamora smiled at Peter. Sometimes it hurt to love him, especially when he risked himself and endured pain to protect others. When he dropped his devil-may-care persona and revealed his true nature as a resolute protector and defender. Her dark eyes were filled with an expression she only ever shared with him as she said, “You’re a good man, Peter Quill.”

He flashed her a playful smile. “Keep that between us. I have a reputation to uphold.”

She couldn’t help but return the smile. Over four years and countless adventures together and he was still an incorrigible rogue. Her fingers gently skimmed along the stubble on his cheek. “Can I get you anything to help you feel better?”

“Yeah. You.”

Definitely an incorrigible rogue. But a loveable one.

Gamora changed into her sleeping clothes and slipped into bed next to him. Propped on one elbow, a gentle expression in her dark eyes, she ran her fingers through Quill’s thick hair because she knew he liked it. She knew he was still hurting and was glad to see some of the tension ease from his body.

“I love you, Peter.”

Quill grinned. He never tired of hearing her say that.

“I love you, too, Gamora.” Peter wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close. She rested her head on his shoulder, her hand splayed across his muscular chest, carefully avoiding the worst of the dark bruises.

Quill was tired and he hurt more than he wanted to admit. The Universe definitely wasn’t a perfect place, but with Gamora in his arms, it came damn close.

~The End~

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who read this, especially those who left kudos and comments. It is always encouraging to a writer to know that people enjoy the story. I especially like knowing what details in the story or parts of the story were particularly enjoyable, so thank you to everyone who took the time to comment.
> 
> I didn't have any more plans for Guardians of the Galaxy stories, but then last week a few plot ideas popped into my head and I've starting outlining the first of at least two new stories. The good news is that the summer field season is starting soon and I do a lot of writing in camp at night. The bad news is, I work in remote places with no internet access unless I'm on a supply run to town, so even after they are written, it might be a while until they are posted. But when I get a chance, I will share the stories here.
> 
> Thank you again for reading my stories. I wish everyone all the best!


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